One driving metaphor behind MoMA Learning—the museum’s digital hub for educational resources on modern and contemporary art—was that of a “tool box” or “kit”—an assemblage of parts that could be used, shared, and modified for a variety of learning environments and styles. Like all educators, we in the Department of Education at MoMA have witnessed thrilling changes in the landscape of learning over recent years—a global shift (especially at the university level) towards broadening access to educational resources through massive open online courses (MOOCS) like MIT OpenCourseWare and non-profit resource hubs like the Khan Academy. We hope to foster and encourage this DIY-learning ethos through MoMA Learning.

Each MoMA Learning theme is accompanied by free, downloadable resources—including worksheets, slideshows, media, and text. We expect that many users—as busy as they are—will download and use these resources as they are. But we also believe in the creativity and talents of the MoMA Learning community—and have been waiting to see the unexpected ways in which people make use of this basic kit of parts.

Student artwork created in response to Pablo Picasso’s guitar constructions

Needless to say, we were excited when we caught wind of the amazing work by Phaedra Mastrocola, a practicing artist and visual arts teacher at the Berkeley Carroll Lower School in Brooklyn. We caught up with Phaedra about how she’s been using, and putting her own unique spin on, the educational resources offered at MoMA.

SP: You told us that you’ve taken many of your students, mostly second- and fourth-graders, on school group tours of the MoMA galleries. What are some highlights of those experiences?

PM: My second-graders have seen several of the Picasso exhibitions at MoMA, including Picasso: Guitars 1912–1914. Our theme is primarily shape vs. form. We’ve studied his guitar constructions and found-object sculptures. We’ve considered how Picasso noticed that flat shapes can be bent and layered to create three-dimensional forms. Back at school, we created our own Picasso-esque guitar collages from brown construction-paper shapes.

Most recently this idea of shape and form has manifested as “Turkeys and Other Odd Birds,” a cardboard bird-sculpture project inspired by artist James Castle, whose work I first saw at the Reina Sofia on a trip to Madrid last summer.

Cardboard bird sculptures created by second-grade students at Berkeley Carroll Lower School in Brooklyn; the assignment, titled “Turkeys and Other Odd Birds”, was inspired the work of artists Pablo Picasso and James Castle

SP: What exhibits and resources have you tapped into for teaching your fourth-graders?

PM: Fourth-graders study identity, self-expression, and consider the question, “What is a portrait?,” all year long. These are themes explored in the MoMA Learning lesson “The Modern Portrait.” We have looked at artists including Joseph Beuys, Frida Kahlo, Marcel Jean, Man Ray, Arman, and Nakanishi. Two art forms the fourth-graders have studied are assemblage and exquisite corpse drawings by the Surrealists. We were thrilled to be able to take advantage of the Exquisite Corpses: Drawing and Disfiguration exhibition last year, as well as MoMA Learning lessons about Surrealist objects and assemblage.

SP: Wow. “Exquisite corpses” and Surrealism—these are difficult topics to learn about at any age. What are some methods you can suggest for connecting younger people to these artworks?

PM: Well, first of all, Surrealism is cool! The paintings of Magritte and Dalí, for instance, are naturally appealing to kids’ sensibilities. I teach the “exquisite corpse” drawing game to third- and fourth-graders every year by having them fold a strip of paper in quarters and take turns drawing a head, chest, legs, and feet. It’s always a riot!

By fourth grade, when we study self-portraiture and identity, students are developmentally ready to comprehend how objects can represent other things. Projects I do with them like “Surrealist Landscapes” and “If I Were an Object” allow fourth-graders to experiment with ideas of symbolism and representation.

Artwork created by fourth-grade students at Berkeley Carroll Lower School in Brooklyn. From left: in response to the prompt “If I Were an Object”; For the “Surrealist Landscapes” assignment

SP: Moving forward, how do you envision using the resources available on MoMA Learning?

PM: I’ve been using MoMA’s teaching resources since the beginning of my teaching career. A favorite of mine is MoMA’s interactive “What Is a Print?” tutorial. It was launched over a decade ago but still serves as a great teaching tool for the start of any printmaking unit. I’ve also seen that the MoMA Learning glossary features definitions of printmaking techniques like woodcut and lithography, the latter accompanied by two great process videos.

Since I became a MoMA Modern Teacher back in 2007, MoMA’s online resources have gained in both quality and quantity. As part of my teaching craft, I’m always researching new topics, sharpening up my art history facts, and thinking about new projects. But MoMA Learning has really done the work of organizing themes and developing ideas on modern art for us. I will certainly make a habit of visiting MoMA Learning and making use of its free, downloadable, and customizable resources before tackling new contemporary art topics in the future.

SP: In addition to being a teacher, you’re a practicing visual artist (and have a decade’s worth of experience in graphic design). How does your art practice inform your teaching?

“‘Form’ Drawing” activity sheet created by teacher Phaedra Mastrocola for her second-graders at Berkeley Carroll Lower School in Brooklyn

PM: There’s no doubt that the work I do with my students is informed by my artistic interests and personal aesthetic. Mixed-media techniques and sculptural forms abound in our art studio. The projects we do are often based in abstraction—one because kids love it (and understand it better than most adults I know), but two because abstract art is not intimidating. Building confident artists means never letting children think there is only one way to draw a chair.

Even more importantly, what I strive to teach the kids is that art is a process. I guess what I do sort of naturally is take them through projects in the same way I might approach them. There is thinking involved, steps to take, and experimentation and discovery is paramount in making each project their own. The key is really ensuring that the kids are developmentally ready for the concepts I’m introducing and are able to manipulate the materials I provide them with. I am always tweaking, always trying to improve. Teaching art is certainly an art form all its own.

Visitors to MoMA Studio: Common Senses in the days after Hurricane Sandy. Photo by Jackie Armstrong

When I received notice that MoMA would be reopening to the public and its employees on Wednesday, October 31, after being closed for two days due to Hurricane Sandy, I have to admit that I wondered if it was too soon.Although my apartment escaped the storm’s impact, I knew many others had very different experiences including several of my colleagues who were without power and hot water, and were dealing with the effects of flooding.

I was happy to be back at work but I didn’t know what to expect in terms of visitorship. When I left my desk to head down to MoMA Studio: Common Senses that day to continue evaluation of the interactive space, I was amazed to see so many families there. It was packed and seemed to be getting busier. But that wasn’t the biggest surprise. Once I began talking to visitors, I realized that many were New Yorkers who had come to MoMA to leave all thoughts of the storm behind for a while, through play and creative exploration. A few had walked a great distance just to come relax and spend time with their family. Visitors found common ground, connecting and communicating with one another through their shared experiences with the hurricane.

Here are some of the responses visitors gave when asked “What prompted you to visit MoMA today?”:

“We are from Westchester. We don’t have any power and wanted something to do and MoMA seemed like a good place to be right now.”

“The hurricane. We are members and are here a lot but today I’m not working and the kids are home so we thought it’d be fun for the kids to get out of the house. And we needed this break too after everything.”

“We live downtown, have a membership and thought it would be a good way to spend some time after the storm, doing something uplifting together.”

Visitors to MoMA Studio: Common Senses in the days after Hurricane Sandy. Photo by Jackie Armstrong

Many visitors expressed connections they made to their own lives. One parent said that they “liked the communal nature of the space” and added that they were “thinking of projects we could make as a family and use.”

Over the course of the past few days I found myself thinking how glad I was that MoMA had opened its doors when it did. I know it doesn’t seem like a lot considering the devastation caused by Hurricane Sandy, but for the families who visited us immediately following the storm, having a place like MoMA Studio: Common Senses to allow them to come together had a positive impact on their day.

Visit MoMA Studio: Common Senses before it closes on November 19, 2012.

Those of you who have clicked through the visitor portraits in our Marina Abramović: The Artist Is Present Flickr gallery, taken by Marco Anelli, probably noticed some familiar faces. Apart from a few celebrities in the mix (Sharon Stone, Rufus Wainwright, Isabella Rossellini, to name a few), there are a number of less famous faces that repeat day in and day out, almost as often as Marina herself. These Marina devotees have become micro-celebrities in their own right, at least around the Museum; the guards know them by name, and fellow visitors waiting their turn to sit with Marina regard them with an air of what may best be described as reverence.

Paco Blancas, a NYC-based make-up artist, is one such visitor. After seeing his portrait a number of times on Flickr, I found myself wondering, “Who is this mystery man? Why does he keep coming back? Why is he crying in so many of these photos?” I wanted to know his story. As luck would have it, last week I spotted him seated in the Marron Atrium, back for his fourteenth sitting with Marina. He shared a few words about his experiences with the piece and what compels him to keep coming back.

How many times have you sat with Marina so far?

I think today was number 14.

When was the first one?

The first one was March 11, two days after the opening.

Why do you keep coming back?

I think Marina’s piece has a very strong magnetism. It’s hard to explain but it’s almost like you feel this force, it draws you in, like a magnet. Sitting with her is a transforming experience—it’s luminous, it’s uplifting, it has many layers, but it always comes back to being present, breathing, maintaining eye contact. It’s an amazing journey to be able to experience and participate in the piece.

Also, I love meeting people in line. I’ve met a lot of people and have made a lot of new friends, many of them artists, but really all sorts of people. I keep in touch with them and we e-mail constantly to talk about our experiences. It’s like a little community of people who come to participate in the piece.

I noticed in a number of the photographs recently published online that you’re crying in many of them, and I saw you cried today. What about the experience elicits that emotion from you?

She almost acts as a catalyst. She presses the button that makes you feel all these emotions and feelings. I think through the concentration and the focus, plus the energy of the audience, it creates this movement within you. It’s very subtle the way it happens. Maybe it’s just an image that pops while I’m connected with Marina. Let’s say it’s an image of someone I love deeply, and then this creates the emotion, the tears just come out. Most of the time it’s tears of joy. You’re just being and thinking about somebody or something that’s important in your life. And then just acknowledging this person or situation and moving on into being present because yeah, the tears come, but I don’t want to cry for the entire sitting. I want to move on and continue to be with Marina, to be present.

You seem to have developed a very deep connection with her work. Can you talk a little about why?

Something I was very interested in is that she said she’s not interested in doing anything she’s not afraid of. I find it fascinating that she has to do something that she’s afraid of all the time, but she’s done it over all these years, and she gets over the fear, she goes over the fear. I don’t know how to explain, it’s almost like she flies over the fear, the danger, the risk… and I love that. It’s all about taking risks, and going beyond, and pushing the limits. I like these words that she said: “Who sets the limits?” I’m not saying it right, but it’s a very profound phrase because we think we can only go so far, but she’s teaching us that we can go beyond what we think we can do and I love that about her.

It’s interesting how in a city like NYC where everyone’s always rushing about, people will stop and wait and kind of be displaced in time in this piece.

I think that’s a really important aspect, now that you mention it. Because, yeah, we’re always like, “I have to do this, I have to do that.” But when I come here, I don’t make any plans because I know I’m going to be here and I don’t care what time it is. I just let go and forget about it. Sometimes we’ve been there for so many hours on line and you don’t even notice it, it’s like “Oh, how come it’s so late?” You don’t feel time anymore. Time stops, and there’s just this energy.

We asked a number of visitors to Marina Abramović’s performance retrospective, The Artist Is Present, to share their impressions with us. Visitor participation is central to this exhibition—Abramović’s own performance for the show asks visitors to come sit with her and essentially become a part of the performance piece, while the “reperformances” in the sixth-floor galleries turn viewers into spectators and confront them in a way art objects never could. We wanted to hear from visitors about their experiences with these works.

Daviel Shy waiting in line for The Artist Is Present. Photo by Julia Kaganskiy

Daviel Shy, artist, back for her second sitting with Marina Abramović:

What was it like to sit with Marina?

It was kind of like being out of time. Just really interesting and filled with different emotions that change the longer you sit there.

How long did you sit for?

I wasn’t keeping track, but they said it was something like an hour and forty-five minutes. But it didn’t feel like a long time.

What did it feel like when you were sitting there? What were you thinking about?

I was thinking about different things but I kept trying to think about the title of the piece, The Artist Is Present, and just be present. But it was cool to watch her too because I would watch her shift slightly—whether she seemed like she was losing her presence, or totally looking into me, or just focusing in general, or kind of communicating in how we were breathing, or other tiny things. It was so varied and so interesting that it was really hard to leave.

So you could feel a kind of energy?

I was focusing so hard I was exhausted by the end of it. Your body is working so hard from being still or trying to be still. It’s just something I’ve never experienced before. It’s not like meditation because you’re with somebody else and you’re both looking at each other.

I’m not sure I enjoyed it in the sense of giving me joy, but it was very revealing and interesting. I wasn’t entirely familiar with her work, especially through the 1970s. I’m always looking for performance that reveals who we are as humans, and this is such a different take. This struck me as so difficult… there was a revelation on a very deep level that I wasn’t expecting when I came in. I’m almost fatigued after seeing it. You’re drawn in by watching people stand or sit or do things to themselves or each other, and after a period of time I found myself going to a subconscious place, rather than being able to analyze it intellectually. I feel like, even in describing it now, my words are not sufficient.

Was there any work in particular that really struck you? Can you pinpoint the moment of your revelation?

I was standing in front of the bones [Balkan Baroque], and I happened to walk in at a moment when [Abramović] was dancing [on video], and the juxtaposition of these two images was jarring at first. Then, seeing the pictures of her parents, it all starts to connect and relate on an ancestral and ritual level. It moved me. I started to smell the bones, and that, juxtaposed with her starting to dance with this red scarf, was kind of profound.

So after having this moment of revelation, do you walk out of here somehow different?

I’m not sure. Isn’t that why we see all art? To have something be shifted, perhaps test new systems of belief, go through a point in the journey where we shed everyday identities and connect to something, just for a moment, that I perhaps wasn’t aware was inside of me, or something that I’m receiving from the artist? You don’t know where that’s going to happen, and I’m not sure what the upshot will be when I walk out the door.

Visitors Jeff Hnilicka and Sarah Sandman talk about the importance of creativity exercises at a recent Bauhaus Lab workshop.

We recently paid a visit to MoMA’s Bauhaus Lab as one of the free art-making workshops was concluding. There, we met two stragglers, Jeff and Sarah, who spoke to us as they continued tinkering with their creative constructions. Two young artists, they were exploring form, texture, color and improvisation in this workshop based on the practices of Paul Klee and Johannes Itten.

What brings you to this workshop today?

Jeff: Well, we’re actually artists. We’re part of a collective called Hit Factorie. There’s about twenty of us working collaboratively in Brooklyn. They [the Bauhaus artists] were masters of collaboration, and we wanted to learn from that. We’re really interested in these ideas of collectivism and immediacy.
So, what did you think of the activity?

Sarah: I love the idea of using these exercises to warm up your creativity. There’s something open and democratic and inclusive in doing these strict exercises and thinking only about texture. It’s great to do something so structured, to have the limitations outlined for you and have to work within those parameters. The restrictions set you free. It’s definitely helpful to get you to a different space before you start a project.

Jeff: These are good tools for experimentation because it forces you to stop competing—I mean, no one’s good at this stuff. Who’s awesome at drawing with two hands? We live in such a specialized world and this forces you to step outside of that.

Sarah: I’m a graphic designer, so it was challenging for me to not think about composition and to concentrate on texture, which was the goal of this exercise. I don’t really know what I’m doing here, but I guess I’ve been drawing inspiration from my environment because I saw that other piece over there [points] emerging from the flat surface and I knew right away that I wanted to do something three-dimensional.

Based on the practices of Bauhaus instructors Johannes Itten and Paul Klee, this Bauhaus Lab workshop encouraged improvisation with form, color, and texture.

How does this relate to the ideas of collectivism and immediacy you brought up earlier?

Jeff: Well, at the Bauhaus they did everything. There was an opportunity for multiple fields to come together, and you sort of lost your expertise. Since that time, there’s been a move toward a more specialized world—this is your area of expertise, this is what you do—people don’t try new things as much, they don’t experiment. You sit in front of your computer and hit the keyboard and that’s what you do. Lately, I’ve been seeing a return to a more DIY, craft culture. It’s more about doing things for yourself.

Our collective came out of a zine project. It was started by friends of ours who are book designers. They started making zines a long time ago. After a while they got really good at it, and now they make these beautiful, elaborate books where it takes them a year to put something together. About a year ago, they started inviting a bunch of friends over to make one book in one day—a Hit Book. Not everyone is great at illustration or writing, but collectively, we make these incredible little books in a very short amount of time.

We tend to get wrapped up in perfection and professionalism, but when you make something quickly, you’re responding to the world around you. We don’t make objects anymore. They [Bauhaus students and instructors] were interested in so many different things and tried so many different things—we don’t do that anymore.

If you are interested in rolling up your sleeves for some art experimentation in the interactive Bauhaus Lab, which reimagines the classrooms of the historic Bauhaus school in Germany, see here for the schedule of events.

MoMA member Bibi Saks inspires her friends to clear off their counter-tops.

Is this your first trip to MoMA?
I used to live in Forest Hills when I was young. I went to school at Pratt to study painting, so I used to come here all the time. I’ve been a member ever since I was a student. I live in Massachusetts now, but this is where I come the moment I get into NYC.

How often do you come down here?
We have a timeshare in NYC, so we come down pretty often. MoMA is my second skin. You can’t check in at the hotel until 4:00 p.m., so we always come here first. It’s like Thanksgiving, the holidays—it’s a homecoming. It’s a relative. Yet every time I come here it’s exciting because there’s always something new.

Has the Museum changed much since your first visit here?
There’s more to see and more to know—it was much smaller back then. The architecture too has really become part of the experience. It’s like a yin yang. There’s so much to look at. Yes, there’s the collection, but then you stop to look at the Museum itself. I was just sitting here staring at the windows and admiring the details—it’s just exquisite.

Do you have a favorite work in the Museum?
The first thing I always do is go to the industrial design department because I’m so proud of my cousin who was Charles Eames’s design director. Any time I see Eames, she’s never far behind.

You mentioned you’re a member and feel it’s important to support the Museum, but how does the Museum support you?
My niece, who is like my daughter, says that I introduced her to all of her firsts: her first trip to MoMA, to the circus, to the theater. But she mentions MoMA first. It was our thing. I showed her the design elements—form always follows function—and since then, anytime she sends a gift it’s from MoMA. She’s learned to make choices that are relative to design.

My husband, if he had his way, would live in a colonial house. I mean, ours is sort of colonial, but inside it’s all modern. Clean lines. My friends come over for dinner and comment that there’s nothing on the kitchen counter. The next day they call and say they got home and began throwing things away and asking, “Where do you keep the toaster?” It’s hidden because, to me, clean lines represent modernity.